Sometimes she has bad days
by emma4713
Summary: Sometimes she has bad days. It’s not because Jim’s not there or Jim’s ignoring her or Michael’s annoying. All those ruin her days too, but there are times when she just has bad days for no reason.


Sometimes she has bad days. It's not because Jim's not there or Jim's ignoring her or Michael's annoying. All those ruin her days too, but there are times when she just has bad days for no reason.

She feels anger without a source, and the first person to do anything wrong feels the brunt of it.

Phyllis looks at her sadly after she's snapped at her, but she doesn't care. Taking her anger out on things makes it feel better, more real, more natural. She's sick of being angry for no reason.

Maybe Jim's the reason after all. Maybe he's with Karen and deep down that just makes her angry.

But she doesn't want that to be the truth. It's not Jim's fault. He has every right to be with Karen, to be over her. Plus, she wants to be stronger than that. She doesn't want a man to have that much control over her feelings. She spent too much time being angry at Roy simply because she was engaged to him. She wants to be happy on her own now. She wants to be angry on her own.

It's just that she's _not_ with anyone. She's _not_ over him.

Every day she has to resist the urge to sketch him. Her fingers twitch every time she looks at him, hears him, sees him out of the corner of her eye. Who would of thought hearing someone could make her want to draw?

If she lets herself, she can draw him from memory when he speaks. It isn't perfect. She emphasizes the things she loves: his lips, his jawline, his shoulders, his hands. She emphasizes a lot of things.

Sometimes her mind begs him to turn around and look at her. Sometimes she hates it when he does. She grows to know exactly when it's going to happen. His chair leans back more than usual, then suddenly swing around and there he'd be, smirking or smiling or raising his eyebrows.

See, he doesn't make her mad. He still makes her smile and laugh and blush and giggle. He still makes her heart flutter.

But he's with Karen, and that's his right. Good for him. At least that's what she tries to think.

Her bad days increase in frequency. Suddenly she's angry all the time. She's snapping at people and sending evil glares in their directions. Suddenly she's Angela.

And suddenly it's enough. She's done with it.

She's driving home and it's the same feeling she had when she realized she couldn't marry Roy. It's acceptance and relief and it's exhilarating. She knows as soon as she gets off the highway it's going to be scary as all hell. But now it's good. Now her window's down and she drives past her exit because she can. Now cold air is whipping her hair around her face and she doesn't care.

She's sings along while they're on the bus. She does know when to hold 'em. Maybe that's absurd, but it's a truth to her.

He's so cute as he "battles." Stanley scares him, takes him down in a second. She laughs and takes notes. Michael always makes her do the most mundane things, but at that moment she is thankful. She can watch him without a care, claiming to be taking notes of his character.

But soon her fingers start twitching and she can't stop herself. Their flight across the paper is one of recognition, one they'd know even if the eyes were not there to help them. Like birds flying south for the winter. She forms all of his contradictions—the round point of his nose, the subtle broadness of his shoulders, the wisps of his thick hair that hang over his eyebrows. A shadow on his jaw here, a sparkle in his eye there. And suddenly Jim is staring at her, staring at her from her notebook. He's smiling at her, the smile he used to smile, before Karen, before Stamford, before casino night.

And suddenly she's going all in.

There's something she has to do before saying anything. It's just there like a fact. Something she absolutely must do.

She stands at the edge of the coals and her toes can already feel their warmth. But it's now or never and she won't have never.

They burn her feet but it's not as bad as she expected. Her skin sizzles and sparks but she doesn't really notice. Because the pain is release, the pain is understanding, the pain is strength.

She is so exhilarated. She runs over to the group. And she's honest with all of them, because she needs to be, because she _is_ pissed they didn't come to her art show. But that's not the important part. The important part is when she turns to her left, hands grabbing her sleeves in their fists, when she turns to look at him.

"I called off my wedding because of you."

That's the first sentence and from there she can't stop. She tells him everything she's ever wanted to tell him. She didn't want it to be this way. She didn't want it to be in front of everyone. She imagined it alone, in the elevator or next to his car. She imagined he'd say everything she ever wanted to hear and they'd kiss. She imagined he'd be her knight in shining armor.

But she doesn't need that anymore. She needs this. She needs the truth out there. She needs to be strong on her own. And she needs to say it even if he stays with Karen. Because she needs him to hear it, just once.

The water envelops her feet up to the ankles. It's cool and crisp and refreshing. It's the wind on the highway. She doesn't look back. She doesn't care if they're looking at her, or talking about her. She doesn't care what they think about her.

She's not just the receptionist anymore. She's not even Fancy New Beesly. She's just Pam. She's just her.

This is her life and she's finally living it for herself, not for anyone else.

She's not waiting for him to save her. She saved herself.

She doesn't have bad days anymore.


End file.
